The Dream Diary of Minamoto Kouji
by Ukaisha
Summary: My name is Minamoto Kouji,' he writes. 'This is a diary I'm keeping for AP Psychology.' For two weeks he writes down all his dreams, and as he pens his soul away he begins to make revelations he never imagined, and spawns obsessions he'd never conceived.


Disclaimer: The author takes absolutely no stake or claim on any characters mentioned.  
Warning: Explicit Yaoi/Boy Love, coarse language.  
A/N: This is the first fanfic idea I've had in months that really inspired me. I don't know why; it just seemed so freaking awesome for some reason. Hope you enjoy. And give the ball a chance to roll before giving up on it; once it starts, it keeps going :x  
Part Two will be added shortly after Part One. This is a two part story.  
Note: I encourage all comments and reviews, so if you have anything to say, please say it, whether positive, negative, praise, or critique. Love reading all of it. So hop on that.

The Dream Diary of Minamoto Kouji

* * *

_My name is Minamoto Kouji, 11__th__ grade, Class A. This is a diary I am keeping for AP Psychology. I'm not really sure how to introduce myself or write here; do I just say "Dear Diary" or "Dear Kurosawa-san"? Whatever. This is the first day I've kept this diary and I haven't slept yet. _In miniscule letters, I wrote above all of this, _Kurosawa-san is a bastard, _followed by a score of unhappy faces. I knew Kurosawa wouldn't mind, and might actually get a kick out of it; he'd derived great amusement from the fact that he was forcing his students to keep diaries for two weeks, detailing their dreams, whether cool, private, and embarrassing. It was a roundabout way of studying the subconscious during sleep, and each of us would eventually pick at least two dreams (or more for extra credit) and research dream analysis techniques so that we could interpret what we think about when we sleep. If we felt up to the task, we could also record our daydreams.  
It was bullshit.  
Nonetheless, I was starting on the road to writing in this stupid diary for the two weeks, though I wasn't positive I could keep it up. I don't usually remember my dreams. I figured I'd make up more than half of them, and wasn't putting a whole lot of thought into the project.  
I finished writing, _I'll update this journal again tomorrow morning when I wake up,_ and I closed the diary. Most other kids were using composition notebooks or even just pieces of paper; I'd actually gone out and purchased a diary, since that was what I'd been told to do. I even wrote the title of the thing in the little spot they give you for your name; the Dream Diary of Minamoto Kouji.  
In all honesty, I felt like a pussy for keeping a "diary" at all, worse yet a "dream diary." I kept meaning to call it a journal, but Dream Journal just didn't have the same ring to it as Dream Diary.

I slipped the book into my book bag before anyone could see me writing in it. Me, writing in a _diary_. Unthinkable. I really didn't know how I was going to keep it up for two weeks, let alone what kind of dreams I'd have to make up to avoid the embarrassing ones.  
With the diary out of sight, it was out of mind, and my thoughts drifted elsewhere, to Takuya raving about the trouble he was having with Algebra again to what I would eat for lunch since I'd given it up to Kouichi. At the time, there were just a lot more important things to think about.

---

_I had my first dream last night,_ I wrote. I was lying in bed, my upper body propped up on two thick pillows, my eyes barely open. It wasn't even light out yet, and the harsh white light from my lamp hurt my eyes. But hey, if I didn't write about it now, I'd forget it. _There wasn't much to it that I remember. I think I was in my house, my living room or bedroom or something. I was watching a movie with-_ I wondered if Kurosawa would know Takuya. I was pretty sure he wouldn't since Kurosawa was mainly Psy II and AP Psy, so there was no reason for them to know each other. _– a friend of mine, Takuya. At least, I was trying to watch the movie, but the dipshit-_ here, I quickly crossed out the word and instead wrote _idiot._ Kurosawa might not mind some swearing, but I didn't want the entire diary to be full of cussing. _–kept stealing the popcorn I was eating and throwing it around. I think he emptied the bowl three times, but it kept refilling, thankfully. I eventually picked up the bowl and threw it at his head, and he just laughed. I think he was laughing at the movie; I can't imagine why he'd be laughing after being hit in the head. _I berated myself for writing the sentence, but instead of crossing it out, I wrote in tiny letters above it, _sorry, early interpreting_ and made a note not to do it again. This diary wasn't supposed to be opinion; just fact. What happened in the dream; that's all it was about.  
I rubbed my eyes of the crusty tiredness that was still lurking in them, and finished up with: _Eventually we stopped going at each other and sat down like normal people to watch the movie. I can't remember what movie it was. I think it was anime. I "fell asleep" before I could finish the movie; I remember curling up on the couch and passing out._ At first I put the pen and diary under my bed, but on second though, decided to stuff it back in my backpack and take it with me. Kurosawa also said that daydreams counted, so I figured I might as well try to record some if I had any throughout the day.

---

_I'm not sure why, but Takuya's on my mind today. Must be that stupid dream; yeah, Kurosawa, they are stupid. _Fujimura had a bad habit of droning on during lectures. Half the class was asleep. No one was paying any attention, though he was trying to introduce us to Calculus. Introducing Calculus to under-achieving lack of comprehension teenagers in a sorry Algebra II class. I think that was too hard for our fragile little brains; heck, even I was having issues with Calc, and I was only taking such a low level math class at my grade to help Takuya out. I should be in Trigonometry by now.  
Speaking of whom, Takuya looked like a zombie; I could imagine him crying in his head, sobbing, "Why me, God, why give me a math impediment?" Just the thought of it made my mouth twitch into a smile. I'd be tutoring him later, no doubt about it. _Daydreaming about asking Takuya to go see a movie later. Hopefully he won't steal my popcorn.  
_"Ugh," I grumbled to myself as I drew a single line through the sentence and wrote _sorry again _above the sentence. This wasn't a DIARY diary; this was supposed to just be describing the dreams, not what I thought of them. Remember that. _Let me see, describe the daydream? I'm in class right now, (yeah Kurosawa, your stupid assignment is making me goof off in class!) and Takuya is bored out of his mind. I was thinking of sending him a note, but he's always pathetically obvious about note passing. So I stop him before we leave class and ask if he wants to hang out later. He sounds thrilled, as usual, and we go immediately from school to the theater. I buy popcorn, he buys candy, we sit and watch the movie. Why are my dreams so boring? Okay, whatever, I'm leaving that sentence in. Anyway, after that we just hang out some more and talk about, then I go home and do homework. _I know I'm not supposed to include personal thoughts, so I turn towards the middle of the book, knowing I'll never get this far with over 200 pages and only needing a page a day, or less. Kurosawa will never see this part of the diary. _I hope my dreams get more ambitious soon. How about some dragon slaying and high speed car chases already?_

---

_What the hell? Again, last night I dreamt about Takuya. I'm starting to get a little pissed. I'm thinking of making up a more interesting dream or something, but I promised I'd only do that if I didn't dream or I forgot it or something._ This I wrote in the second half of my diary, my personal pages. This time I was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a pile of eggs and toast. I had about ten minutes before I had to leave; I figured I'd get this out of the way.  
Back to the Dream Diary. _Takuya and I didn't actually go to the movies yesterday, (he said he had stuff to take care of at home) but I dreamed we did. Dreamt. Dreamed? Anyway, same as yesterday, except this time I remember the movie that was playing. _Here I paused. The movie had been a feature about our adventure in the Digital World, but how could I tell Kurosawa that? Oh, what did it matter; it was a dream, so he'd just think it was some weird mindfuck. _Me, Takuya, and a couple of our other friends were in the movie, and we were watching ourselves. We were fighting monsters, saving the world, that sort of thing. I almost died at some point-_ It felt so impersonal to just casually refer to the attack of Duskmon as "some point," as though it didn't matter that I'd really almost died there. But it was a movie in a dream; it wasn't supposed to have a lasting effect on me. _–but I lived. I think Takuya saved me, sorta, if you call shaking me around and calling me an idiot saving me._ I figured this sentence was fine because it gave more insight into the dream._  
_I quickly switched to my other page, inserting, _At least I didn't die. I'm always freaked out when I die in dreams. Wait, I heard somewhere that you never actually die in dreams though. You just think you do, then wake up before you actually go on with it. I wonder if that's only partially true; the people who do actually witness their own death in a dream are the ones who die, and we never know about it.  
_It was only my second day of keeping the Dream Diary, (I even thought of it like that, in capital letters now) and I was already utilizing it as a food for thought type of thing. I guess diaries came in handy more than you thought.  
I finished the last few details of the dream, threw the rest of my breakfast to my dog, and headed to school again. Already I was daydreaming, and thinking that I couldn't wait to write in the diary again.

---

_I daydreamed about death again on my way to school. I drive myself, and I'm seriously paranoid when it comes to driving; I feel like all the other drivers are out to get me. The smallest fault in a driver sharing the road with me causes my imagination to spin off into all sorts of horrible images of fiery burning death, and this was no different. Some asshole cut me off on a turn, and there I was; initially side-swiped, then rammed into from the driver's side, and rolling, rolling, rolling down the road. Couldn't get out of the car; could barely move or breathe. The daydream was so vivid I could practically taste my own blood; the sight was so strong I almost cried. _This next part I almost left out, but out of obligation, I tacked it on. _Thankfully, for some reason, Takuya happened to come along. He rides the bus, but he made the driver pull over to help me. He got me out and tried to resuscitate me, but I still think I died in the end.  
_In the back, I added: _The car dreams are always so sad, but they rarely have a happy ending. At least I died this time with Takuya by my side._

---

_Goofing off in class again, Kurosawa. All of a sudden I'm realizing how many daydreams I have a day. I haven't hand-written so much in such a short period in my entire life.  
__Okay, I feel like I need to start talking about something else, but this daydream was Takuya again. _To the back of the book. I look up quickly to see that Hasegawa isn't watching me, and then continue._ I swear I don't have a thing for him or anything; he's just been on my mind a lot lately, I guess. He's an interesting subject.  
_I try to look like I'm interested in the story we're reviewing, but I'm not. I hope I look like I'm taking notes or something. Back to Dream Diary. It sounds like a magical happy fairyland place with unicorns and butterflies or something.  
_Takuya and I have been planning to go to this water park for a couple of weeks for summer vacation. That's what the daydream was about; finally it was summer, and we were headed off with nothing but a credit card (for hotels and food only) and the swim trunks on our – _here I nearly wrote _asses, _but made a conscious effort to instead write _behinds _for Kurosawa's sake_._ I felt like a grade school kid or something; this just wasn't how I talked or wrote.  
_Takuya immediately wanted to tackle the biggest waterslide there. Forget EVERYTHING else in our path; we made straight for the biggest, fastest, scariest slide ever, and it was pretty fun. We kept riding again and again because conveniently, there weren't a lot of people there.  
_Because I just had to write it, I flipped to the other section of the diary; _Yeah, good luck making that a reality.  
_I looked up again. Hasegawa was paying no attention to me whatsoever, so I was free to continue on. I was never the kind of student to goof off or blow off classes like this, but I felt compelled to write. It was some sort of gripping urge.  
_We spent all day getting soaked and having a massive adrenaline rush every five minutes, ate junk food, and then retired to a comfy hotel, (thank you, Dad's credit card) and slept off the exhaustion so we could do it again.  
_Again, I felt compelled to finish the thought. I couldn't leave it unfinished just because I didn't want to hear Kurosawa's opinion on the matter.  
I flipped to my personal diary, which I realized was collecting a lot of random, scattered thoughts, and didn't make sense individually. It didn't matter. I wrote on a free line while it was fresh in my head: _Takuya and I shared a bed. We were pretty zonked out because we were so tired, but it was nice to share the bed with him. He was warm._

---

_My dream last night (finally!) wasn't about Takuya. It was more a nightmare. Everyone I knew died, my dad, my stepmother, my brother, my mother, Takuya and all the rest of my friends, even my freaking dog. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but their funerals were all scheduled at the same time in different places, so I had to keep running around to get to all of them at once. I think it was some sort of tragedy how they died because there were reporters there talking about how outraged the public was about some kind of accident. The bodies were in pristine condition, so either the guys at the morgue were really good at dressing up bodies, or they died in an accident that didn't really mangle or main or ruin them in any physical way. That's description, not interpretation.  
__Anyway, the dream ended before I got to see Takuya's grave, so ha, no dream about Takuya tonight.  
_That was all I wrote that day. I felt sick to my stomach the rest of the day and stayed home from school. I'd woken up crying after the dream. I guess my irrational fears are pretty obvious. And crippling.

---

_I'm on a roll; four dreams in a row. I usually dream once or twice a week. This dream was about me getting a new dog. I've wanted a Doberman Pinscher forever, and since my current dog is getting on in years, my dad said I could have one (in the dream). So I flew off to Germany, I think, except everyone still spoke Japanese there; you know how that is. All the dogs I looked had had really bad temperaments or their breeders didn't do a sufficient amount of health tests and I didn't want them, but I really wanted a real German line Doberman. I guess I gave up at some point because the next thing I knew I was back home and at school, and everyone was asking me where my new dog was, and I had to tell all of them that I didn't get him yet, but I knew I'd get him one day. Takuya again makes an appearance and says something like, "I bet you will" or something. Not sure if this counts as part of the dream, but when I woke up, I said, "I'll have him." Strange thing about this is that I don't actually like Doberman Pinschers. _

---

_This is a new day, a new dream. Didn't write any daydreams yesterday. I had a really short dream last night. I'm in my room, and my cell phone rings. I pick up, and a voice says, "Are you there?" I say, "I'm here." It says, "I'm waiting." I say, "For what?" It doesn't reply and just hangs up.  
_In the back, which is starting to fill up with more and more personal thoughts, I write, _I think it was Takuya on the phone. _I write his name several dozen times before getting out of bed. Ever since I started focusing my thoughts with the diary, they've been focused on one thing: Takuya. It was getting really disturbing.

---

_Ha ha, turning that on YOU aren't I Kurosawa? Goofing off in your class to write in __YOUR__ diary! Can't blame me!  
_But I couldn't write what my actual daydream had been; it was too embarrassing. I couldn't write anymore about Takuya knowing that Kurosawa would be reading it, so I wrote about something stupid I was planning to do with my brother over the weekend. I was sure he wouldn't care.  
I almost wrote my real daydream in the back, but I didn't. No more Takuya. This was getting out of hand.

---

_I daydreamed about Takuya again. _That was all I put in my little half of the diary. I didn't really want to get into detail about it; I just wanted to write it there so I knew it had happened.

---

_I don't know what to do. I'm freaking out a little. This is really, truly freaking me out. I can't be having those kinds of dreams. I mean, Kurosawa won't even know; no way! I'll just write something stupid about some lie; my dreams have been boring enough thus far, so I doubt he'll notice. I don't have to write EVERY dream or every thought that goes through my head, because it's my head and I'm entitled to some privacy. No one needs to know. So why am I writing about it?! _I tapped my pen on the paper, trying to decide if I should keep going. The pen in my hand was itching to keep writing, and it felt soothing, almost relaxing to write the words. What the hell; I could rip this page out later.  
_I don't even want to write it, but I think writing it would be better than SAYING it, or really thinking about it. Ugh, I feel so filthy; I hate it. It's so fucking weird because this has never happened before. I mean, shit, it's HAPPENED before, but not like this for him. Okay, fuck it Kouji, just say it. I had a wet dream about Takuya. Errrg, it sends a chill down my spine just seeing the words! But why? Why Takuya? He's my friend. Oh, I know, it was a fluke. I was just in that mood and because my mind's been on Takuya a lot lately; that's all. It didn't REALLY mean anything. I've had wet dreams before that made no fucking sense what so ever and this dream wasn't really ABOUT him, it just had him in it, okay? So that's all. Should I write about what it was? Fuck it, might as well. It really wasn't anything serious. Takuya and I were just in bed together and we were naked and we were rubbing on each other. That's it. That's not even really gay, right? No, it's not. Sex isn't sex unless it's inserting one's penis into a hole, whether a vagoo or ass, and that's why Catholic girls can get away with handjobs and titjobs and things like that, right? So just a little rubbing is nothing. It doesn't even matter that I came. Shit, I'll cum for no reason at all in the night, not even having a good dream. So that's all it was. Mutual masturbation I think they call it. It'll probably never happen again. That's right.  
_Admittedly, I felt a lot better getting all of my thoughts out onto paper like that. I realized this was something I really did need in my life: a diary. I'd probably continue keeping one long after this project was due. I was so much more focused when I was writing.

In the Dream Diary, this is what I wrote:  
_Illogical dream, floating around in space. I was trying to fly or something, even though I didn't have any space gear on. I couldn't propel myself through the vacuum, so I just floated. I passed all the planets and finally landed on Pluto. Poor Pluto, it's not even a planet anymore. Anyway, when I got to Pluto, I realized I was just playing with a solar system toy thing, you know, one with all the little balls and stuff. I spun it around and knocked it to the ground and destroyed the universe. I woke up then, actually thinking I'd destroyed the world._

---

_Kurosawa's going to start wondering where my daydreams went to, but I'll just write some fake ones in after this. Had more daydreams, but none of them I want to tell Kurosawa, the bastard. God, this is freaking me out. You know those really obnoxious love stories where the characters are all shy around each other and like "omg I think I love you" and they blush and the other's like "omg I love you too but I never told you because I thought you wouldn't like me," and then the other's like "OMG I've always loved you la de da!"  
__Bad. Bad. Bad daydream. Can't stop shaking my head, trying to get it out. I keep kicking the chair in front of me in frustration, and the guy turned to look at me like I was scum. That made my temper flare, which made me feel better. God I feel like smacking myself. It's not that I think these thoughts are BAD; it's just I can't believe I'm actually having them. The subconscious might be a fluke, but a full-drawn day-dream love fest in math class just from LOOKING at a guy? That has got to stop._

In the Dream Diary:  
_Fujimura is going on and on about how stupid we all must be for not understanding "simple" Calculus, although this is not simple Calculus. This is "this is really hard and you know for sure this is some form of intimidating math that no one can do" Calculus. Daydream: some deranged student brings out a micro Uzi modified for automatic fire, and opens fire on Fujimura. He dies. His blood sprays everywhere. We cheer. The end.  
__Note: Please don't report me to the freaking school board or something, jeeze. I actually really like Fujimura. It's just a stupid dream.  
_Yeah. Just a stupid dream.

---

_Another dream, almost wet; didn't quite get there. Takuya was definitely jerking me off this time, we weren't just rubbing. What's worse: I was about to start giving him head when the dream ended, and when I woke up, I was sorry I never got to. Maybe just because I really needed to cum at that point.  
__Maybe these dreams are trying to tell me something.  
Wow, no shit Sherlock?  
It's just…it's just hard, you know? (yeah, talking to myself in a book…I totally know, me, go on about your problems to yourself) I think people say they dream because they aren't tired enough, so I woke up really early this morning and I'm going to cut out all caffeine today. Maybe if I go to bed really exhausted, I won't dream about Takuya.  
__It's not that I don't want to, I just realized. I kind of enjoy having all these dreams at night. It's just…yeah, this is pathetic city right here, but I don't think he feels the same way. I just don't want to get my hopes up or anything, that's all. Maybe I'll watch some porn tonight before bed, straight porn. Maybe that'll get me back on the right track._

To Kurosawa,  
_Yeah, I'm never threatening to kill anyone ever again, even in a stupid diary. Freaking federal AGENTS showed up and arrested me for WRITING about killing Fujimura, and I got life for committing dream-crimes. WTF is a dream crime?! And you testified at my obviously stacked trial. You said stuff like "I always knew he was really out of whack" and stuff and you showed them the diary. Thanks you bastard. I guess I'm not allowed to think illegal things or even remotely disturbing things. Big Brother will stop me.  
_I no longer even cared that Kurosawa didn't want me to get deep into my dreams and he just wanted description. He was getting a dream; that was that.

---

_After a healthy diet of stir-fried veggies, no caffeine and an hour and a half of hardcore straight porn, I went to bed last night. Had an appropriate dream; me and Takuya were in bed and he was trying to get me to have sex, but I kept saying no. Yay me, being abstinate even in dreams. Boo me, about to give in and only not getting around to it because the alarm went off. I've been thinking about talking to Takuya about this kind of thing. I mean, maybe this didn't just spring up out of no where; Takuya and I have always been pretty close, and maybe this is just those feelings finally coming out into the open. Maybe if I plant the seed, it'll start to grow on him too. I don't have to come right out and say anything, right? I did kind of wish I could see him naked. I think the dreams would progress a little better if I knew exactly what he looked like au natural.  
_I actually forgot to write a real dream in the diary that day. I would quickly scribble down something random at the last minute to make up the full amount; I'd already written through eight days of dreams, and there were only six more to go.

---

_I dreamt I was sleeping. Wow, what a twist! Who has dreams about sleeping? Anyway, I was asleep, (yeah) suddenly woke up, thinking I'd forgotten something really, really important. I jumped out of bed and stood there racking my brain. I didn't have to go to school, so I wasn't late, and I was pretty sure I hadn't had an appointment or anything, so I couldn't figure out where I had to go. But I just pulled on all my clothes and ran out the door. I ran next door and went in, and was at the train station. I wandered around for a while, and I figured I'd missed my train, when I saw someone wave at me, telling me to hurry up. I made it and sat on the train, and I still couldn't figure out what I'd been about to miss. I was going to it, anyhow. I woke up before I could get there, and I woke up for real thinking I'd missed something. Funnily enough, I had; I'd forgotten to set my alarm. That's why I was late for school._

---

_Dream number 10! I think I've had as many dreams in this ten days as I usually have in a month. Bit of a nightmare this time, I dreamed I was in that one zombie movie that came out a few years ago, you know, the one where the zombies bite you and you get really angry and cannibalistic, but you're not REALLY a zombie because you're just infected with a disease, and it's like the apocalypse or something. Should be called "Extended Road Trip: The Movie." Except I think I was in the sequel (which was ten times better than the original) and zombies were running all over the fucking place. Got bit, but like that one kid I didn't become a zombie, but none of the other zombies knew that, because I guess I looked like one. They left me alone and I could go out and round up all the people I could and hide them. One of them eventually figured out I was a spy or something, so I had to hide with all the people I saved, and they turned on me when they realized I was a zombie too. They revolted and were planning to kill me, but then a whole mess of other zombies came in and killed everyone. Served them right, I thought before I was attacked too. I might've died, but you know how that is; I woke up before it happened._

---

_I think I have to write this to get my mind at ease. If I don't write it and acknowledge it, it's just going to keep bothering me. Fuck, how am I supposed to do this? I've never written anything like this before. Then again, I've never written so much in my damn life or even thought I'd ever have to WRITE to get my mind off of something, so yay Kouji, we're learning new things every day!  
_I was glad I wasn't in school today so that I could have some privacy when I wrote this out, if I even could. I keep looking over my shoulder, like I think someone's watching me, even through they aren't, or like if I write something, someone's going to read it just because I wrote it. But that wasn't necessarily true; a diary was supposed to be secret. Both my father and Satomi would never sneak in my room and read something personal of mine, and I'd just be tearing out all these pages before Kurosawa got to them, right? So what's the harm? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did I even have to have a daydream like that? Worse yet, why did it have to be a DAYDREAM, not a dream? It was a conscious thought, something my mind was controlling and completely aware of…  
Okay, have to write it, or it's going to eat me from the inside out. It doesn't have to be really detailed or something. Just do it. My pen wasn't even an inch above the paper, and yet I could not get it to make words. It froze there, quivering, and my mind began to race over the daydream again. It would continue haunting me until I released it into words on this paper; that's what it was. All I had to do was write a few measly sentences. And who's going to judge me for writing them? No one else is ever going to read this but me.  
_Had a daydream about Takuya._ That was a good start, I thought. Go on.  
_It was kind of like a wet dream, only it was a wet daydream, and I didn't exactly cum right away, obviously, I had to act on the dream myself instead of it just happening. Takuya-_ It was times like this I kind of wished I were writing with a pencil so it could break at opportune moments like this and I wouldn't have to write anything. My pen, however, would not break. I scribbled a bit around, avoiding writing the words I knew I had to write, until my pen tip finally reached the new line and rapidly began moving, seemingly of its own accord, spreading words like fire.  
_-Takuya and I finally achieved copulation (sex). I was on the bottom unfortunately, but that's how it works sometimes I guess. Hope I'll be on top next time. I'd never exactly shoved anything up there before, but it felt pretty good, at least in the dream. He was jerking me off while he was doing it and that's what made me want to cum. Then he came in me and he collapsed on top of me and we rested for a bit. He was really hot and eager and willing, and I instigated it again, and this time he took me from behind, so it went even faster. At first I wasn't making any noises, but then I realized that was boring, so I imagined myself making noises, and that was really hot, and then I just had to jerk off. Didn't realize my daydreams could get so vivid for this kind of thing. _

Even writing these dirty thoughts was starting to give me a boner again, but I ignored it. I was right, after all. Getting the thoughts out was all it took. I felt alright after that, even if it was all really gross and weird. I relaxed and finished scribbling off a few tedious details, and then wrote a few lines in the beginning of the diary about some lame ass daydream I supposedly had. I was so happy I only had to worry about Kurosawa's Dream Diary for another few days so I could finally use mine in peace.

---

_Dream 11. I have no fucking clue what went on in this dream. It was like some collage of a million things put together to where it didn't even have a common interest in "sense." It was everything in my life thrown together or something. School and home and my past and places I wanted to go and food I wanted to eat and people I wanted to see; honestly Kurosawa, I can't even explain to you what the dream was about because even I have no fucking idea. All I know is that when it ended, I was underwater, and even though I couldn't breathe, I was okay; you know how that is. I was just swimming along looking at fish, and all of a sudden I wake up. God. I can't wait to analyze THIS dream._

---

Only two more to go after this, and I was relieved. I was kind of hoping like if I gave away the Diary, I wouldn't think about Takuya anymore. That's what all this had been about, the stupid diary. Anyway, I went ahead and filled in the third to last entry, total B.S.:  
_I guess it's time for me to turn this thing in; I had a dream about that. But you berated me for writing too much irrelevant stuff in the Diary and I was like dude, at least I did the project. I sat down in my seat and was really pissed off, and then realized that I'd written a bunch of embarrassing diary stuff in the back and had forgotten to tear it out before giving it to you, so was freaking out. (Note: there's no embarrassing stuff back there; don't bother looking you voyeur) Then you showed and read all the embarrassing stuff to the whole class and I ran out, pissed. _

---

_I dreamt I was on a plane and we were flying somewhere. Then the plane crashed in the ocean, but I thankfully survived. I had to save a kid who couldn't swim, but there were a couple other people who were okay. We all had to swim back to shore and it took us hours. At some point we stopped swimming because that was getting tedious and we all walked on the water, and then a couple people started getting eaten by sharks, so I ran out of there, (on the water) and left the kid, who was holding me back. Think the kid got eaten. Felt kind of bad about it, but I reached land okay. Some big ass shark followed me on land and pulled me back in though. That sucked._

---

_Oh my God Kurosawa, I am so happy that I don't have to write in your stupid diary anymore, and this is my last dream. Okay, déjà vu, but it was about Takuya again. Nothing interesting, we were just chilling. It was like a repeat of the first day's dream because we were watching a movie, but then someone tried to break into the house, and we hid in my room, waiting for the cops to show up. I guess we eventually forgot that someone had broken into the house because we went on performing business as usual. You know, video games and witty satire conversation; that kind of thing.  
_I'd already ripped out the incriminating pages in the diary, but on one of them I wrote:  
_We did it again. The first time ever in a dream and ever since the daydream that day. I think I've officially fallen for him. Writing it right here, right now: I love Takuya. I hate myself for that.  
_I scribbled love, love, love, love on that sheet of paper all over the place, even over most of the words, even when I was in class. When I handed the completed Dream Diary to Kurosawa, I felt like I was giving him a part of my soul, even though my soul had been ripped out of it. It seemed so important to just give away like that.  
"Good, Kouji," he said absently as he leafed through it to make sure I actually DID it and wasn't just handing in an empty book. "Glad to see you did the assignment, after all."  
I grunted a reply and returned to my seat. My hands twitched with the need to write something, but I ignored it. That's all I needed, just ignore the diary, and maybe I'll get better.  
Maybe.

On the last open space on the paper, I wrote, _Had a daydream about Takuya just now,_ and that was all I could fit. I felt torn apart inside, but I kept it in. I didn't need the Dream Diary.


End file.
